


You're a Constant

by soraaoi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, because I honestly don't know how to write fluff; please forgive me, mostly angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraaoi/pseuds/soraaoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi was always constant; never-changing, but that wasn’t bad.</p><p>For Oikawa, there has never been any definites.</p><p>But if he had the chance, he’d like to believe there's one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a Constant

**Author's Note:**

> For Iwaoi Week Prompt 1  
> I tried going for fluff, but it kind of turned angsty? And before I knew it, it became 70% angst, so I'm really sorry aha.

_Constant, Steady, Uniform_

i.

Oikawa has never understood consistency. He’s always sort of just been _here_ , and _there_ , but he kept on moving. As long as he looked ahead with those determined eyes of his, he thought that it was fine as it was. Even if it meant changing himself or becoming someone different, he would do it, moving onwards no matter what. He didn’t like the thought of being left behind— he hated it. _Despised_ it.

Nightmares would often come visit him in his unconsciousness. Horrifying darkness; pitch black with no sign of light. Deafening silence, ringing out and hurting his ears. The bitter cold air and stinging fear of being stranded.

 

_‘Don’t go.’_

 

 

_‘Please don’t leave me.’_

 

 

_‘Someone... Anyone.’_

 

 _Stuck, lost, **trapped**._ The boy was caught in the frozen time, never-ending, never moving; caught and bounded back. It was like quicksand. The more he struggled and cried for help, the faster he plunged down into the pits of his fear. And the one thing he knew was that screaming didn’t help.

( _Because no one would hear.)_

 

The countless amounts of times he’d wake up in the middle of the night, bathed in sweat that clung to his skin uncomfortably, scared him. Breathless, tattered. He would pick up the shards of himself once more, and with the new day, hopefully fix himself together before anyone notices.

_(Oh, but that person always knew.)_

 

ii.

He was eight years old when he first met that nightmare.

It wasn’t as cold or dark back then, but it jabbed him where it hurt the most. No one knew him more than he knew himself; all the bad things, good things, all the happiness, and the dreads. It took him a while to realize this, but the reoccurring nightmare was all him too. It was the part of himself that was scared to death of being alone, all the negativity and resentment— but most importantly, all the insecurities and worries. No matter what part of himself it was, it knew where to hurt him best. He couldn’t run away from it.

At first, it was just the small fears he kept at the back of his head appearing before him. But as he progressed, it only grew stronger and fiercer. It chewed away what was left of him, and at that point, he couldn’t pick up his own pieces anymore.

_(Was it beyond saving?)_

But there was still a person in his life who stayed by him when no one did, who understood him when no one would, who noticed the slight change in him that everyone was blind to—

_“Iwa-chan.”_

Said in a wavering voice, torn apart and shaking with tears, he clung onto the other for dear life.

It was during those nights when he felt empty and broken, too much for a child to bear on his shoulders, that Iwaizumi was there. They lived by each other, so perhaps it was the close walls and small gap of their two houses that his friend knew, but he appreciated him being there anyways.

When the house was vacant and his parents weren’t home, there would always be a knock on his window. It broke through the invisible walls he set up unconsciously and gave him a new home. It secured him and reassured him that he wasn’t broken. Not yet, _not ever._ It was a blanket of warmth that cradled him to sleep, whispering words he hoped to hear.

**_“I’m here.”_ **

 

iii.

When he couldn’t pick himself back up again, and the scattered shards were too edged and sharp to touch, he watched as Iwaizumi pick them up. He fixed them clumsily, put the broken pieces back together with bleeding fingers and bruised hands, and silence followed before a voice tore everything in the air.

“You’re not broken. You won’t ever be.”

“Iwa-chan?”

“I won’t let you break.”

There are times when he had the will to try again, and there are the other times when giving up had become an option for him. But when that option appeared before him, and he was on the edge of escaping everything, _there was **someone** there._

And as long as that person stayed, giving up was never an option.

The tears he held back all come rushing out, and he willingly lets himself be comforted by a familiar hand.

It’s a warmth he doesn’t ever want to forget.

 

iv.

The eight year old him who snuggled close to Iwaizumi during cold nights, tugging on his shirt as if it was the most obvious thing in the world—

_(That kid still exists.)_

Even if he does change as time continues on, he’s not scared. The only thing he fears is losing Iwaizumi in the process.

_(But he’ll stay.)_

Sure, Oikawa can be childish and demanding at times… he himself knows so. But Iwaizumi has accepted all that; all the good, all the bad. When everyone left, his roots were planted to the ground. The only consistency in his life was Iwaizumi, and he figures that out somewhere along the way. So just for a bit, he’ll believe in a tomorrow where there’s something definite.

**_‘Iwa-chan is a constant.’_ **

 

v.

He looks back, and notices one small mistake.

Because there was someone who knew him better than he knew himself after all.

_‘Ahh, so I was wrong.’_

Oikawa smiles.

Being wrong isn’t always a bad thing, he decides.

 

vi.

In his nightmare, he’s still in the dark.

But he isn’t alone anymore, and it isn’t as cold now.

There’s a hand reaching out for him, and it’s always been there. He just didn’t realize it before.

Taking the hand stretched towards him, he wakes up from the reoccurring dream.

When he looks to his side, there’s a presence next to him, sleeping soundly and comfortably.

It’s then that he smiles to himself and cuddles closely to the other body, finally at peace.

Changing might be inevitable, but he doesn’t ever want this part of them to change.

Not now, not in the future.

_“Stay with me forever.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if that fit the prompt exactly??  
> But I enjoyed writing it anyways because these two are going to be the death of me someday.


End file.
